In Which Sirius Loves His Goddaughter
by KaptainKass
Summary: James and Lily survived the war AU, and asexual aromantic Sirius understands and protects his goddaughter.


Lily and James and Harry and little Daisy were a perfect, adoring family – made complete, of course, by Sirius and Remus and Peter. After the war, Lily had slowly begun to reconnect with her sister, with Vernon and with not-so-little Dudley (Harry and his cousin would often try to play football, and entertained all of the adults: Harry couldn't quite wrap his little wizarding mind around the rules of the muggle sport, and Dudley just wasn't as athletic as his parents liked to believe. Little Daisy, on the other hand, could have wiped the field with her older brother and cousin. Remus and Peter each had their own families, and sometimes their children would join the Potter and the Dursley children for a game of football. Little Daisy was still the best.)

Little Daisy was used to being called Little Daisy. She was the youngest, the smallest, the only girl. She had always been tiny, but she was okay with that. She was sneaky, fast, and frequently underestimated. Eventually, her brother and cousins went off to school (Harry, along with the Lupin and Pettigrew boys, to Hogwarts; Dudley to Smeltings). Little Daisy suddenly found herself lavished with even more attention than normal. Without the boys at home, Lily, Aunt Petunia, Mrs. Lupin, and Mrs. Pettigrew turned their maternal affections on Little Daisy. Little Daisy didn't want all the attention; it made it too hard for her to plan pranks, fly around on Uncle Sirius's broomstick, and sneak cookies from kitchens.

She took to her Uncle Sirius more than she ever had before. He helped her hide from her mother when she wanted to be alone to play. He distracted his friend's wives from smothering Little Daisy with the hugs and kisses that she didn't want. He didn't have to split his time between his friends and his family – his friends _were_ his family. He loved his friends (his brothers), he loved his godchildren (his nieces and nephews), and he loved that Little Daisy sought refuge from him when all of her mother-figures began to overwhelm her. He loved that the boys (even Dudley) wrote him letters from school, telling him all about the girls and boys they had crushes on. He loved that they thought of him as cool, single, Uncle Siri.

Little Daisy thought these letters were gross. She didn't get the idea of crushing on someone, of thinking someone was hot. Her parents, her aunts, her uncles – they all told her that she would outgrow this. That someday she, too, would have a crush on someone. They told her that when she was the older, like the boys, that she would want to date someone, to kiss someone. Uncle Siri never told her this. He never told Little Daisy that it was normal to be attracted to someone, to want to be someone's girlfriend, to want to be close to people. It killed Sirius to think that his friends, that the men he thought of as brothers, the women who were like the sisters he never had, thought that it was _normal_ to want to fall in love, to have a physical relationship. It meant that they thought it was _abnormal_ (weird, strange) that someone would not want that. That someone had never, would never, feel sexual attraction, romantic attraction. Sirius never told Little Daisy that it was normal, that she, too, would one day have a crush on a person. Instead, he told her that she _might_, but that it was **perfectly okay** if she didn't. He made sure she knew that not everyone does, and that she could always talk to him about anything, but especially about all things relationship-oriented (after all, even though he had never had a romantic or sexual relationship, didn't mean he couldn't give advice to his nephews and niece).

After two years of being the only baby left at home, Little Daisy got to go to Hogwarts as well. She loved everything about it. She loved that the only people who called her Little Daisy were her brother and cousins. She loved having friends her age, having friends who were _girls_ (after all, not only were her brother and cousins all boys, but it seemed that every child in her village was a boy, too). She loved the minor pranks she and her new friends played on the older boys. She still didn't quite get something, though. All of her friends talked about their crushes all the time, about the boys they wanted to make their boyfriends. Even though her parents told her that she'd have crushes, too, she still didn't. At first she thought maybe she was what they called a "late bloomer," but she didn't like that phrase (she was already named after a flower, she didn't need to be referred to as blooming). Daisy remembered something, though. She remembered Uncle Sirius telling her that some people don't ever want a boyfriend-girlfriend relationship, and that that's perfectly okay.

("Like you?" Little Daisy asked her Uncle Siri. She was sitting next to him, her head sleepily resting on his shoulder. "Is that why you don't have a girlfriend?"  
"Yes, little one. Like me. I don't have a girlfriend or a boyfriend because I've never wanted one," he replied, stroking her red hair as she struggled to stay awake. It was late, way past her bedtime, and they were sitting in the treehouse that he and James and Remus and Peter had built for the boys, their feet dangling over the sides. Lily and James were on holiday, and Sirius gladly stayed with Little Daisy.  
"You don't like to hug people or kiss people, either. Like mommy and daddy. They're always kissing. It's icky."  
"Little one, it's icky because they're your mommy and daddy. But no, I don't want to kiss anyone, either. I don't need anyone. I have your mommy and daddy, and your Uncle Remus and Aunt Andi, and Uncle Peter and Aunt Marie, and that's enough for me. Maybe you'll feel this way when you grow up, and maybe you won't. Either way, it's okay."  
"I don't like hugs or kisses either. Mommy's and Daddy's are okay, and I like when you carry me to bed when I'm sleepy. Like now. I'm really sleepy, Uncle Siri." Laughing, Sirius took the hint. He picked up his tiny goddaughter, carried her down the ladder, into the house. Just went he thought she was asleep, her hazel eyes fluttered open. "I love you, Uncle Siri.")

As Daisy got older, the talk in the dorm turned from crushes, to kisses, and eventually to sex. Now 15, Daisy had accepted that she was never going to be attracted to someone, not romantically, not sexually. She barely even noticed people who were merely aesthetically pleasing to look at. She had her brother, her cousins, and her friends who were like the sisters she never had. Little Daisy (who wasn't so little anymore, but rather, was taller even than her brother) had Quidditch and transfiguration and letters from her Uncle Siri – letters that never asked if she was dating anyone or if she was remembering the contraception spell. She had boys who were friends and girls who were friends, but she never had boyfriends or girlfriends. Her closest friends knew not to hug her or pat her on the back without asking her first – she really didn't even like being touched. When a boy asked her out, she got sick on him. When the same boy later tried to kiss her, she hexed him (do they never learn?). Amortentia smelled like every other potion she made. Daisy, like her Uncle Siri, was asexual, aromantic. Daisy, like her Uncle Siri, knew that this was just how she was. Daisy, unlike her Uncle Siri, didn't want James and Lily to know. She didn't know how to tell them, and she was afraid of disappointing them.

Life was great for Daisy as she entered her seventh and final year at Hogwarts. Quidditch scouts had been watching her play for two years, and she was the longest-serving team captain in Hogwarts History (much to Harry's dismay, his little sister had been named Quidditch captain in her fourth year, when he thought surely he was going to be named captain). She still had her friends and her family. She still had letters from Uncle Siri. She was also soon going to have a new sister-in-law, Ginny Weasley. She had watched her brother and Ginny fall in love, start dating, break up, date again, fight, make-up, and love each other through it all. It was nice, Daisy thought, that Harry had found someone to share his life with, someone who he loved and who loved him, but she still didn't desire that kind of romantic relationship, the sexual connection that she knew they shared (she had overheard Ginny talking about how good Harry was in bed one day – as if Daisy wasn't normally repulsed by sex enough, she now knew how big her brother was, what turned him on, and what kinds of things he did to Ginny that turned her on). As the wedding approached, her family decided that they needed to find a date, a love interest, a romantic partner (James had thrown a fit when Remus implied that Little Daisy, his only little girl, might have sex with her romantic partner). They discussed possibilities constantly, and the thought made Daisy's stomach turn. She didn't want romance, she didn't want sex, she didn't even want "emotional intimacy" (whatever that was). One night at dinner, Ginny and Lily were trying to decide who Harry should ask to be a groomsman, knowing that Daisy would have to sit with him, dance with him, be near him all night. It had to be just the right person. Daisy was on the verge of tears, shooting her uncle and godfather desperate, save-me, looks. Quietly, Sirius cleared his throat.

"You know, not everyone wants a relationship. Some of us have no romantic attraction, no sexual attraction. You can't force someone into a relationship, who doesn't want to be in one." He said in a soft voice, knowing that his friends were more likely to take him seriously since he was so rarely quiet and so frequently loud.

"We're not talking about finding someone for you, Sirius, we're talking about Daisy," Lily responded. Sirius cleared his throat again, making eye contact with Lily, refusing to be the first to look away. He was mentally telling her not to make Daisy say it, knowing that Daisy had reached her limit of thinking about being in a relationship, and that this conversation was not going to end well if Lily made Daisy say she was aromantic out loud, tonight. "Oh. OH. Ginny, maybe just have Harry choose whomever he wants, I don't think it much matters to Daisy. Daisy, honey. I love you. I always love you."

Little Daisy grew up to be the cool, single aunt to Harry's children, to her cousin's children – much like Sirius had been to her. Much like when she was younger, she loved Quidditch and harmless pranks and Amortentia still smelled like every other potion. She was contentedly alone, but never lonely. She was surrounded by her family and her friends, and her life was never lacking for anything.


End file.
